


so it's time to take some action, boys

by NoirSongbird



Series: tonight we're fighting for our lives [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Paladin Adam (Voltron), First Meeting, Lotor Is Good Actually, M/M, Past Adam/Lance, Pre-Relationship, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 20:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15781326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: While on a supply run on a small planet, Lance steps in to stop an act of mob justice--and is very surprised at who the victim turns out to be.





	so it's time to take some action, boys

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so! This ficlet was definitely written as an exercise to get myself out of my head and just Write Something, because I've been struggling really hard lately. It's a snippet from an AU I've been playing with where, because of the complexity of the flight to Kerberos and Shiro's illness, the Galaxy Garrison decides to send _two_ pilots on the Kerberos mission: Shiro and Adam.
> 
> Adam made it back to Earth to become the Black Paladin. Shiro is still missing, at the time of this fic.
> 
> Other notes:  
> -Adam and Shiro were definitely broken up by the time of the mission. Pour one out for Sam and Matt, who did not ask to be in the middle of this post-breakup garbage.  
> -This AU is eventual Adasheith. That's not important to this fic, but it's important to me, spiritually, so.  
> -Canon timeline-wise, this fic is set shortly after s3e4 "Hole in the Sky". Obviously, things in this universe went sideways for Lotor much, _much_ sooner than in canon, and arguably in worse ways.  
>  -Adam and Lance were in a relationship for a while while they were with Voltron. It ended somewhere around "Space Mall", so it's been over for a while by the time of this ficlet, and there was some...poor communication related to feelings and what kind of relationship it was, exactly, that has since been cleared up.  
> -Adam did not go missing at the end of the fight with Zarkon, but he _did_ succumb to a pretty fuckin' awful depressive episode that he's _just_ beginning to crawl out of by the time of this fic.
> 
> I think that covers everything! That's a lot of notes for a short ficlet, oops.

This was supposed to be easy.

Lance wasn’t sure why he ever expected  _ anything  _ to be  _ easy  _ anymore, but surely delivering supplies was just gonna be that—stopping on a recently liberated planet and helping with distributing some of the supplies the Coalition was bringing in, to help replace what the Empire had previously provided. Easy enough that they’d even gotten Adam to come with them, which was probably a positive sign. He even looked like he was enjoying it, or at least pretending to enjoy it. That was….a pretty big step in the right direction, Lance hoped. 

A lot of things felt like steps in the right direction with Adam, lately, like getting him to talk about their relationship; Lance wasn’t going to pretend it hadn’t been a big deal to him to hear that Adam  _ had  _ actually liked him, and hadn’t just felt cornered because Lance wouldn’t let things go, but he’d also seen the way Adam relaxed when Lance said he wasn’t angry. And he  _ hadn’t  _ been. Just...hurt. Really, really hurt. Less so, now.

So, yeah, simple errand, lots of positive signs, generally it should have been a nice, easy day where the most strenuous thing Lance had to do was smile for the fans.

Not exactly.

Things started to go sideways about when Lance heard a commotion, of the kind that he really disliked hearing. The kind that sounded like a fight, and because Lance liked to consider himself a Big Damn Hero, the kind that he couldn’t just  _ ignore.  _

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he told the pretty young local girl he was working with. She nodded, and he jogged off, rounding the corner to the street where he was pretty sure the commotion was coming from. 

It was bad. About as bad as it got, arguably, because it looked like the sort of mob-on-one situation that never ended well. A small crowd was gathered around what Lance was pretty sure was a single individual; not that Lance could get a good look at whoever that was, since they were, as best as he could tell through all the people gathered, on the ground.

“Hey!” Lance said, striding forward, calling his deactivated bayard to his hand and hoping very much that he wouldn’t have to use it, “what the hell is going on here?”

A local who Lance strongly suspected was the leader of this little mob turned around, grinning broadly. He was huge, bigger than most of the people on this planet; if Lance was feeling like guessing, he’d have guessed the man had some Galra in him, somewhere, which was pretty ironic.

“A Paladin of Voltron! Just what we need.” He grinned and shoved his way through the crowd to grab the poor unfortunate soul that was the target of this charming bit of mob violence.

Lance’s first thought, upon getting a good look at the target, was  _ ‘Jesus fucking Christ he’s hot.’  _ Even bruised and battered, snarling and struggling against his much bigger captor’s grip and the binders that held his arms behind his back, that was obvious. The purple tone to his skin was a cue-in that he was definitely part-Galra, but overall his look was less “angry homicidal anthropomorphic cat” and more “absurdly pretty dark elf,” right down to the elegant features, pointed ears, and long white hair. 

Lance’s second thought was that maybe that was a bad thing to be thinking, not only because this definitely wasn’t the time but because he had  _ just  _ hauled himself out of the hole he’d dug with Adam, and that hole had definitely started with the thought  _ ‘Jesus fucking Christ he’s hot.’ _

“See,” the big leader said, grinning in clear self-satisfaction, “we found this piece of Galra garbage hiding out on the edge of town, and we’re pretty damn sure he’s Prince Lotor. The former Emperor Pro Tem. Zarkon’s brat. And we thought we’d show him a little frontier justice.”

“If this is your idea of  _ justice, _ ” the prisoner—who was apparently possibly  _ Lotor, _ and holy  _ shit,  _ whenever Lance had pictured Zarkon’s kid he had absolutely not pictured a tall, muscular pretty boy—snarled, “I would  _ hate  _ to see your idea of  _ cruelty.”  _

“Shut up,” the big man said, shaking him hard.

“Uh huh,” Lance said, in a tone that he hoped conveyed how unimpressed he was with everything about this. He put his hands on his hips, and looked over at the prisoner, so there could be no question of who he was talking to. He met Lance’s eyes with fierce defiance, and  Lance couldn’t help the little skip his heart did, but. Priorities. “Are you okay?” he asked. The prisoner blinked in surprise, and didn’t seem to quite have a response to that question.

“Now wait just a—” the mob leader began.

“No,  _ you  _ wait.” Lance rounded on him, fixing him with the iciest stare he could manage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Even if you’re right and this  _ is  _ Prince Lotor, Zarkon’s made it pretty fucking clear that he considers Lotor an enemy. Have  _ any  _ of you heard the saying ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’ Or is that something we’ve only got back on Earth?” He huffed. “And anyway, mob justice is pretty much always fucking garbage, so I’m not gonna let you murder somebody  _ just because  _ he’s Galra and you hate the Galra.”

“This isn’t your planet,” the big man growled, “so why don’t you butt right the hell out? Go back to handing out blankets or whatever you all think you’re doing.”

“I don’t think so.” Lance casually activate his bayard, but didn’t raise it up. “Let him go, and we can forget all this happened. Or you can keep arguing with me, and I’ll call in the rest of my team for backup, and I promise you, you’re not gonna like what happens if I do that.”

Lance could hear dissenting mumbles in the crowd, and finally, one of them looked over at the leader.

“Hand him over, Zadax,” they said, and the leader, Zadax, frowned.

“What do you even know, Jexa?” he demanded. The other person sighed. 

“I know that if anybody can handle him, it’s the Paladins of Voltron. So hand him over,” Jexa said. Zadax growled, but shoved the prisoner in Lance’s direction. He made a noise of surprise as Lance moved forward to catch him, helping steady him as the crowd dispersed. Lance led him away, and then made quick work of the mag-cuffs.

“You didn’t have to do that,” the former prisoner said, as he rubbed at his wrists. 

“Yeah, I did,” Lance said, firmly, and then he extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Lance. Blue Paladin of Voltron.”

“Lotor,” the man said, extending his hand to take Lance’s with a slightly rueful smile. “As they said, former Prince of the Galra Empire.”

“Wow,” Lance said, and he gave Lotor what he hoped was a more reassuring smile. “You’re not what I expected.”

“I’m not what most people expect,” Lotor admitted, with something that was almost a laugh. He paused, and frowned. “What, exactly do you intend to do with me?”

“Right now?” Lance said,”get you back to the Castle of Lions and into a healing pod, you look like you need it.” He frowned at the apparent bruises on Lotor’s face, and the way he winced when he shifted his weight. “After that? I dunno, that’ll be up to the rest of the team. But we’re not handing you over to the Empire. I can promise you that much.”

“Why?” Lotor asked, and the fact that he sounded genuinely confused broke Lance’s heart. “Not that I doubt your sincerity, Paladin Lance, but my own  _ generals  _ were happy to hand me over.”

“Yeah, well,” Lance said, firmly, “we’re not them. So come on, let’s get you out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr at [noirsongbird!](http://noirsongbird.tumblr.com)


End file.
